


Solved And Closed

by imsorryimlate



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Hate Crimes, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Minor Injuries, Moral Ambiguity, Parent/Child Incest, Physical Abuse, questionable police work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 08:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3602739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsorryimlate/pseuds/imsorryimlate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With great caution, Lance advanced. When he opened the door, however, he didn’t find a gang ready to jump him or a bomb about to go off in his face. He found Tommy Merlyn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solved And Closed

Detective Lance received the call early on a Wednesday morning, so early that it could still be considered Tuesday night.

“Good morning, Detective,” an anonymous voice said.

“Who is this?” Lance asked. The number was hidden and probably untraceable.

“Just a friend.” There was a slight pause, then the voice spoke up again. This time it was laced with amusement. “I left you a little present.”

“What present?” Lance asked. It was too early for this shit; he had barely even made it to the station.

“You’ll see when you get there.”

“Where?” Lance was losing his patience.

“The abandoned storehouse right next to the old Merlyn clinic, down in the Glades. _You’re welcome._ ”

The call ended, and Lance sat frozen for a minute before grabbing his coat and walking back out into the cold winter air. The stars were just beginning to fade and Starling City was slowly waking up.

Lance jumped into his car and drove it toward the Glades. This was crazy. He should’ve told someone that he was going out (not sure who, since the precinct had been more or less empty). Anyone could be waiting for him at that storehouse. Out of pure habit, Lance reached for his gun, just to feel that it was there.

The Glades were alive despite the early hour; druggies and dealers, homeless people huddling together for warmth, a few challengingly clothed young women…

Lance parked outside of the storehouse and got out of his car. He unholstered his gun and walked tentatively towards the door. There was no lock, so he entered right away with his gun raised high.

It was empty, except for a few rats, but at the end of the room was a door. Lights flooded from the cracks around it. In that backroom, this so called “present” would be found. Lance couldn’t help but feel curious.

With great caution, Lance advanced. When he opened the door, however, he didn’t find a gang ready to jump him or a bomb about to go off in his face. He found Tommy Merlyn, bound to a chair and sobbing. Duct tape stopped him from saying anything, but Lance could easily read relief and shame from his eyes. Lance didn’t understand the second emotion until he realised what else was decorating Tommy’s face; _INCEST_ was written across his forehead, accompanied by _FREAK_ across his nose bone and cheeks, although the paint was a little smeared by tears. Blood trickled down from his nose and a swelling started to bloom around his eye.

“Jesus,” Lance breathed. Tommy was naked and the room was even colder than outside. _DADDY’S BOY_ was scribbled on his bare, bruised chest and his penis was covered only by a thick envelope.

“It’s okay Tommy, I’m here,” Lance said, trying his best to comfort the boy as he peeled the duct tape from Tommy’s mouth. Who could’ve done this? Tommy was just a kid, for Christ’s sake; he was friends with Lance’s daughters, and not long ago he’d been at Laurel’s 18th birthday party.

Lance produced a small pocket knife that he always carried with him and cut through the rope digging into Tommy’s wrists and ankles. Tommy still hadn’t said anything, but his tears kept falling.

“Are you alright?” He asked and shed his coat, wrapping it around Tommy’s shoulders. Tommy grasped at it desperately. His skin had a sickly blue colour to it; Lance needed to take him to a hospital.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said and Tommy stood up on shaking legs. The envelope that had been resting in his lap fell to the concrete floor. Lance bent down and picked it up.

“Please…” Tommy said. It’s the first thing he said since Lance got there. “Please don’t look at that.”

Lance didn’t know what to think, but he had a feeling that the answer to this bizarre situation could be found in that envelope. He looked into Tommy’s tear filled, blue eyes, and they were begging him.

“Tommy, I just found you naked and tied to a chair,” was all the explanation Lance offered before opening the envelope. He needed to know what’s inside, if it was connected to the crude words marking Tommy’s body.

It was. There were photos, some blurry, some clear. All showing the same thing; Tommy and his father, Malcolm. Kissing, touching, _fucking._

“Shit,” Lance said before he could stop himself.

“You cannot tell anyone!” Tommy said desperately while wrapping the coat tighter around himself. He shivered uncontrollably.

“Let’s talk about this in the car,” Lance said and grabbed Tommy’s arm, leading him out of the storehouse. Tommy had a slight limp to his steps, probably a result of the beating he’d received.

Lance started the car and raised the heat as soon as he had manoeuvred Tommy into the passenger seat. The silence hung heavy around them. A thousand thoughts swivelled around in Lance’s head; he was wondering about the person who’d done this to Tommy, while still trying to swallow the news about the incestuous love affair that went on behind the closed doors of the Merlyn Mansion. Who could’ve thought that _Tommy,_ one of the most ordinary people Lance knew, would be one to sink so low? Although, he was not surprised; rich kids had a tendency to be screwed up… Lance felt ashamed at that thought.

“Here,” he gave Tommy a napkin he found tucked in his pocket. Tommy started to wipe away the words before the blood. It was clear what bothered him the most. Lance drove towards the hospital.

“What are you doing?” Tommy asked.

“Taking you to the hospital,” Lance answered. He stubbornly kept his eyes on the road in front of him. Get the kid to the hospital, _and then what?_ Arrest him? No, Malcolm was the one he should arrest. God knows how long this affair had been going on. Since before Tommy was legal? Long before that? Lance’s stomach knotted itself in discomfort.

“Can you please just take me home instead, Detective?” Tommy asked.

“No. You’ve been beaten and left naked in the cold for God knows how long. You need medical attention,” Lance said firmly.

“They’ll ask questions.” Tommy’s voice was anxious, but his resolution stated to give out.

“Not if I tell them not to,” Lance said. He could do that; keep this between the two of them for the meantime. _And then what?_ His mind repeated.

Tommy turned his head and stared silently at Lance for a long moment.

“What are you going to do?” He asked after what felt like an eternity.

“I don’t know,” Lance admitted. He should drive straight to the Merlyn Mansion and slap a pair of handcuffs on Malcolm Merlyn, but the situation was more complicated than that. It needed to be dealt with delicately.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Tommy said, managing to sound demanding even in his most vulnerable state.

“I assume that you are fully aware that incest is illegal.” Lance regretted the words as soon as they’d left his mouth. They were harsh, inconsiderate. They put words to what should’ve remained unspoken of. But Tommy didn’t flinch; he just lowered his head in shame.

“It’s not that simple,” he said.

“Isn’t it?” Lance questioned. He let out a long sigh. He didn’t want to dig deeper into this filthy business, but he had to. “When did this start?”

“When I was sixteen,” Tommy answered reluctantly. Lance drew in a sharp breath; Tommy may have been over the age of consent, but he had still been a kid.

“How–“ Lance interrupted himself. “ _Why?_ ” He wasn’t sure what exactly he was asking, just that he needed an answer, an explanation to this madness.

“Why am I sleeping with my dad?” Tommy filled in before letting out a small, dark chuckle. “Why did you marry your wife?” He asked in return.

“Because I love her,” Lance answered without missing a beat.

“Well, there you have it. I love him.” Tommy sounded so sure of it. Either he told the truth or he had convinced himself that that was the truth.

“He’s your dad, Tommy. You’re not supposed to love him like that,” Lance said, somewhat uncomfortable.

“I’m not proud of it, if that’s what you think,” Tommy mumbled, suddenly sounding very small. He _was_ very small, beaten and cold, huddled in Lance’s oversized coat.

A heavy silence fell between them again. Lance’s understanding of Tommy Merlyn had just gone up in smoke and he’d need at least a couple of hours to comprehend that his daughters’ friend was in an illegal relationship.

Tommy continued to wipe away the dark words from his pale skin. Lance sighed; he had to ask.

“Do you feel forced or compelled to sleep with your father?” He asked. If there were any combination of words Lance never expected to hear himself say, it had to be this one.

“No,” Tommy said firmly, “it’s not like that.”

“Are you sure? Because I know how devastated Malcolm was after your mother died, and that you might feel like it’s your duty to–“

“Stop,” Tommy interrupted. “Just stop right there. This has _nothing_ to do with my mom, alright? And I don’t see it as my duty. I want this as much as he does.” He actually sounded offended, but surely he’d understand that that would be what most people would assume?

“Alright.” Lance was quiet for a heartbeat. “You said you started to sleep together when you were sixteen.”

“Yes,” Tommy confirmed.

“Was there anything before that? Did he,” Lance waved his hand around, searching for the right word, “ _touch_ you or anything?”

“My dad isn’t a pedophile, Detective Lance,” Tommy assured him.

Dear Lord, Lance couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. Thankfully, they wouldn’t have to discuss this any longer – at least for the time being – since they finally arrived at the hospital.

Lance was just about to get out of the car when Tommy’s hand on his arm stopped him. He turned and looked at the boy; still pale from the hours in the cold storehouse, words that had been smeared beyond recognition, two identical streams of dry blood under his nose. He was a pitiful sight.

“You do realise that if you pursue this matter my whole life will be ruined, right?” Tommy questioned. “It will be a big scandal, and every chance I have at a decent future will be lost. People will see me as an _incest freak_ , and only that. Those words will be written on my face forever if anyone finds out.”

The words sank into Lance’s brain, and he realised that they were true.

“Let’s just get inside, alright?” He said and got out of the car. He heard Tommy doing the same.

The hospital had just started its day, so there weren’t many people around. It was good; they didn’t need any attention except for medical. They walked up to the front desk.

“I’m Detective Lance,” Lance said, flashing his badge, “and this is Tommy Merlyn. He needs medical attention immediately.”

As soon as the name _Merlyn_ was dropped, a doctor seemed to appear out of nowhere.

“What happened to you?” The doctor asked as she led Tommy to a private room with a gentle hand on the small of his back. Lance followed them.

“Some guy beat me up and… locked me in a storehouse. Naked.” Tommy tried a small smile, but it looked more like a tragic parody of one. The doctor glanced back at Lance with wide eyes.

“Hate crime,” Lance said. It was bound to raise more questions, but it was the best explanation.

“I’m so sorry,” the doctor told Tommy. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t speak about the events until I’ve had a chance to question him. It could interfere with the investigation,” Lance said. He looked over to Tommy, who nodded.

* * *

Lance stood outside of the room and watched Tommy being wrapped in a blanket after his medical examination was done. The doctor squeezed Tommy’s shoulder before exiting the room and making her way to Lance’s side.

“Poor guy…” she sighed.

“Is he alright?” Lance asked.

“Yes, it’s just bruises, but… there are a lot of them. Whoever did this was furious.” The doctor shook her head. _Yeah,_ Lance thought, _furious or disgusted._ Lance tried not to think about it, but every time he closed his eyes, the pictures in the envelope danced on his retina. And every time they did, dulled nausea bloomed in his chest and up his throat.

The hospital was fully active by then, so the rapid footsteps closing in didn’t receive his immediate attention. It wasn’t until a man stopped right beside them that Lance turned around and saw that it was Malcolm Merlyn, looking as worried as any parent would be in the same situation. _He put Tommy in this situation,_ Lance couldn’t help but think. How would he ever be able to look at this man with respect again, knowing what he knew? _Having seen what he’d seen?_

“Detective Lance,” Malcolm greeted him with a nod, although it wasn’t as collected as usual. “Is Tommy alright?”

“His injuries are minor, they will heal quickly. He will probably fall ill though; he was left in a storehouse for almost an hour,” the doctor told him.

“Can I see him?” Malcolm asked, glancing through the window at a resting Tommy.

“Sure,” the doctor said with a smile. “I better go and check on some other patients, but I’ll be back.”

She walked away with her pager already beeping like crazy.

“What happened?” Malcolm asked Lance when they were alone.

“Someone beat him up,” Lance said simply. “Stripped him. Tied him to a chair and left him in an abandoned storehouse, together with some evidence of what the two of you are doing.”

Malcolm didn’t look particularly surprised, just wretched, and maybe a shade of frightened. He should be; Lance had every intention of prosecuting him.

“You can think whatever you want, Detective. It doesn’t matter; Tommy and I are on the same page,” Malcolm told him, staring intensely into his eyes.

“It’s still illegal, no matter what page you’re on,” Lance replied. Malcolm shook his head slowly, more to himself than Lance.

“I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Good, because I don’t.” That would be like him sleeping with Sara or Laurel… the nausea bloomed up again.

“Do you know who did this?” Malcolm asked, promptly changing the subject.

“No, but don’t worry; he’ll find him,” Lance assured him. Yes, this man might be a disgusting bastard, but he was still a father worrying about his son. _That,_ Lance could relate to.

“I’m sure you will,” Malcolm said, and there was _something_ about the way he said it…

Malcolm left Lance’s side and went into the room where Tommy rested. He closed the door behind him, an obvious marker.

Lance watched them together through the window. Malcolm sat down by Tommy’s side, held Tommy’s head gently in his hands and placed a kiss on his forehead. Tommy relaxed considerably in his father’s company. Malcolm rested his head against Tommy’s, with closed eyes. It looked like he was whispering apologies, over and over again.

They looked like a married couple just as much as a father and his son. It was unnerving how… _sweet_ it looked. Their love for each other was practically radiating off of them. Lance had to look away; it was too intimate.

Tommy’s words never stopped spinning in his head; if this got out, Tommy would have no future. No matter how much Lance didn’t approve of his daughters’ acquaintanceship with him, Tommy didn’t deserve to have his life ground into the dust. He was young and he was bound to do stupid shit, although having sexual relations with one’s own father wasn’t exactly what most people meant by _young and dumb._

Tommy didn’t seem to think this was stupid. In fact, he looked very content, the way he looked at his father and held his hand. To anyone else it could pass off as innocently, but Lance knew better. But when Tommy had said he loved Malcolm, Lance hadn’t really believed him. He had thought it was just a sick and twisted mess of sex and mommy issues. But no, this looked more real. This was something Lance recognised.

So Lance left it alone. There was no mention of incest in the police report, and he went back to the storehouse to gather the evidence by himself. He turned a blind eye, and he hated himself for it. He had sworn to uphold the law, but he had betrayed that vow the second he told Tommy that he’d leave them be. The envelope with the photos went into a securely locked safe, in case they would ever be needed.

They managed to track down the guy who’d beaten Tommy, but not before someone else did. A robber, apparently, although they hadn’t taken anything off his dead body. Lance chose to ignore it and signed the case as solved and closed.


End file.
